twenty-three
"Audentes fortuna iuvat." - Pliny the Younger
RIDICULOUS REUNIONS
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William flew towards the floor, head smacking the stone pavement. Blood coated his lips, and when he rose to a sitting position, he wiped the crimson liquid with the palm of his hand. Blood smeared his fingertips and he rose, lips curling into a snarl. He thought he'd escaped bastards who thought it was funny to beat others to a pulp.
"Leave me the fuck alone."
Owen laughed. "And why the fuck would we do that?"
William rolled his eyes, one punch and this guy thinks he's all that. He didn't bother responding, just walked the other way with his head raised high. No more strikes. He couldn't afford anymore. Who knew what Tom would do if he found out, saw William standing on his doorstep one late afternoon.
Probably kick me out, he thought. Send me to some foster family, or leave me to the streets.
He walked the halls with fire and rage coursing through his blood. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. Though, he could do none of those things. Class started in five minutes and he wasn't in the mood for obtaining another detention; the Headmaster didn't need any more reasons for potential strikes.
William was well aware of the stares he attained, following him like one would follow the football in a championship match. As always, he did his best to ignore them. Things were going fairly well until a strong grip of hands wrapped around his bicep, pulling him into the nearest closet.
Not again.
He pushed against the hands, knocking the boy against the shelf. Lights flickered and William squinted his eyes to adjust to the semi-dark room.
"What the hell happened to your face?"
William couldn't help himself. He grinned, lips curving into a smirk. "Lucien Harding is worried?" he exclaimed. "For me? Pinch me, I must be dreaming."
Lucien frowned, crossed his arms against his chest as he eyed the swollen, probably bruising area on his face.
William paused, then tilted his head slightly. "It's cute, Harding. Didn't know you still cared."
"Shut up," he sneered, old Lucien as pristine as ever. His collar was folded perfectly, his tie the perfect knot and perfect length, shirt tucked in, a stark contrast to William's disheveled appearance. "What are you doing, William? You can't go around getting yourself into fights."
He rolled his eyes. "As if I wanted to get punched in the face, darling."
"I'm serious."
William arched a single brow. "Look, I appreciate your concern. I really do." His teasing, lopsided grin returned. "But I think I can take care of myself."
"And the bruise on your face is proof of that, yeah?"
"What do you care?" It'd been two weeks since their last encounter. Not a single word. Not a single glance his way. William's patience had grown thin, like a frayed rope ready to snap. "You've proven that you don't time and time again."
Lucien clenched his teeth and a muscle in his jaw ticked. "Believe what you want, Brown, but I still don't want to see you hurt, as much as I'm sure you'd like to see me hurt."
"Well that's reassuring."
"Good," Lucien snapped. "I'm glad."
William met Lucien with a blank stare. "So, you didn't pull me in a closet to make out? A shame. I was really looking forward to it."
YOU ARE READING
He Bleeds Flame ✔️
Romance(bxb) After a year of surviving an all boys boarding school, William Brown thought he had finally navigated the ups and downs that the rich, private school had to offer. He'd even managed to make a few friends, as well as a rightful enemy. Lucien Ha...
